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That doth presume to boast of gentle blood.

KING.

Stain to thy countrymen, thou hear'st thy doom!

Be packing, therefore, thou that wast a knight;

Henceforth we banish thee, on pain of death.

[Exit Fastolfe.]

And now, my lord protector, view the letter

Sent from our uncle Duke of Burgundy.

GLOUCESTER.

What means his grace,

that he hath changed his style?

No more but, plain and bluntly, 'To the King!'

Hath he forgot he is his sovereign?

Or doth this churlish superscription

Pretend some alteration in good will?

What's here? [Reads] 'I have, upon especial cause,

Moved with compassion of my country's wreck,

Together with the pitiful complaints

Of such as your oppression feeds upon,

Forsaken your pernicious faction,

And join'd with Charles, the rightful King of France.'

O monstrous treachery! can this be so,

That in alliance, amity and oaths,

There should be found such false dissembling guile?

KING.

What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt?

GLOUCESTER.

He doth, my lord, and is become your foe.

KING.

Is that the worst this letter doth contain?

GLOUCESTER.

It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes.

KING.

Why, then, Lord Talbot there shall talk with him,

And give him chastisement for this abuse.

How say you, my lord? are you not content?

TALBOT.

Content, my liege! yes; but that I am prevented,

I should have begg'd I might have been employ'd.

KING.

Then gather strength, and march unto him straight:

Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason.

And what offence it is to flout his friends.

TALBOT.

I go, my lord, in heart desiring still

You may behold confusion of your foes.

[Exit.]

[Enter Vernon and Basset.]

VERNON.

Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign.

BASSET.

And me, my lord, grant me the combat too.

YORK.

This is my servant: hear him, noble prince.

SOMERSET.

And this is mine: sweet Henry, favor him.

KING.

Be patient, lords, and give them leave to speak.

Say, gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim?

And wherefore crave you combat? or with whom?

VERNON.

With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong.

BASSET.

And I with him; for he hath done me wrong.

KING.

What is that wrong whereof you both complain?

First let me know, and then I'll answer you.

BASSET.

Crossing the sea from England into France,

This fellow here, with envious carping tongue,

Upbraided me about the rose I wear;

Saying, the sanguine colour of the leaves

Did represent my master's blushing cheeks,

When stubbornly he did repugn the truth

About a certain question in the law

Argued betwixt the Duke of York and him;

With other vile and ignominious terms:

In confutation of which rude reproach,

And in defence of my lord's worthiness,

I crave the benefit of law of arms.

VERNON.

And that is my petition, noble lord:

For though he seem with forged quaint conceit

To set a gloss upon his bold intent,

Yet know, my lord, I was provoked by him;

And he first took exceptions at this badge,

Pronouncing that the paleness of this flower

Bewray'd the faintness of my master's heart.

YORK.

Will not this malice, Somerset, be left?

SOMERSET.

Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out,

Though ne'er so cunningly you smother it.

KING.

Good Lord, what madness rules in brainsick men,

When for so slight and frivolous a cause

Such factious emulations shall arise!

Good cousins both, of York and Somerset,

Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace.

YORK.

Let this dissension first be tried by fight,

And then your highness shall command a peace.

SOMERSET.

The quarrel toucheth none but us alone;

Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then.

YORK.

There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset.

VERNON.

Nay, let it rest where it began at first.

BASSET.

Confirm it so, mine honorable lord.

GLOUCESTER.

Confirm it so! Confounded be your strife!

And perish ye, with your audacious prate!

Presumptuous vassals, are you not ashamed

With this immodest clamorous outrage

To trouble and disturb the king and us?

And you, my lords,